Reformed Regrets
by Repto
Summary: Penguin claims he's gone straight! To prove his reformed life, he accepts a job as a teacher at Gotham's high school. But has he really changed his ways or is there something else on his mind?
1. Chapter 1

(Disclaimer: No, I do not own any of the DC characters found in this story. Blahdeblah blah. Only original characters are mine like Missy and Aaron and whoever else DC does not own. Ahem, though, I wish I owned Penguin, of course. -grin-)

**Reformed Regrets**

**Chapter 1**

"I hear he whacks kids on the head with it."

"I hear he has some sort of camera device in it to secretly learn about everyone without anyone knowing they're being taped."

"Oh yeah? Well I hear he stuffs drugs inside it and uses them after class!"

"The both of you are insane, he obviously plans to set a deadly gas over everyone in the halls one of these days."

Missy walked past the group of boys nonchalantly leaning against their lockers, talking loud enough for anyone within ten feet or so to hear them. Hefting her books in her arms, she made straight for her locker, nimble fingers swiftly setting her locker combination. However, just as she opened her locker, one of the boys slammed it back shut. She glanced up in annoyance at the boy as he grinned cockily at her.

"What'd'ya think Missy? You don't really think Penguin's gone quite clean do you?"

She said nothing for a moment, glancing around in agitation before sighing, "Whatever he's doing, it's none of my business, Aaron. I'd prefer to stay out of trouble this year, thanks. Can I put my things away now?"

Aaron stepped aside, but crossed his arms, grinning at her, "You have him right? I saw his name on your schedule..." He stabbed his finger at the paper sticking out of her English book, containing her class subjects and teachers. She grunted, flinging open her locker and trying to ignore him, but all the same, tucked the sheet of paper further away from his sight. "I got to go Aaron, I'll be late otherwise, and I don't need to be tardy to class so early in the year."

Stalking away, hoots of laughter and catcalls of 'Watch out for his umbrella' met her ears. Setting her jaw firmly, she whisked upstairs in search of her ornithology class.

--

Missy tapped her pen atop her desk nervously, glancing around the room a little curiously. Most of the other kids were muttering lowly to each other, taking in their surroundings. The classroom looked… well, hardly like a teacher's room. The walls were plastered with many posters of birds, and the teacher's desk had many different figurines of the species scattered about the top of it. Penguin, as her classmates liked to call him despite his supposed retirement of the criminal life, had not yet shown his appearance.

As the bell rang shrilly throughout the school, the kids in the room muttered lowly under their breath before their came a tense silence. As if on cue, a large rotund man filled the doorway, glancing sharply about the class, the flash of his monocle catching the glint of the early morning sun.

Despite Missy's early dismissal, she couldn't help become anxious. When her parents had found out that a former villain was going to be one of her teachers, they'd flipped out. They began calling the principal, demanding to know how he knew Penguin wouldn't do anything rash to the kids. The principal seemingly was able to calm them with reassurances, though these assurances seemed dry to Missy… something like 'Batman has things under control'.

Pulling her mind back to the present, she stared at Penguin until his gaze swept on her, then she quickly glanced down at her notebook scrawled with notes of last year. However, she was far from concentrating on them; her body tensed further as he slowly strode past her desk, the click of his umbrella upon the floor an ominous sound. Only until he'd made his way to the front of the class did she look up to scrutinize him fully.

He'd placed his top hat atop his desk with what seemed to be with practiced ease, and without his top hat, his usually scattered, vibrantly orange hair revealed his attempt to slick it back into a more appropriate and clean fashion. His piercing green eyes probed each and every student he glanced upon with an arrogant spark to them. The scowl on his face suggested that he didn't choose to be a teacher on his own choice, and this, Missy mused, was probably going to get him a lot of crap from other students.

His clothes could be easily described as well tailored and clean cut, in fact, he looked more like the businessman he was than a schoolteacher. To her bemusement, she realized he'd also come styled with a briefcase, which considering who it was, looked a little comical.

Her observation was cut short however when his abrupt voice cut through the silence, "Soo, first day of school for all of us then eh?"

When he received no answer from the class, his mouth twitched downward further and he turned to heave his briefcase atop his desk. Missy watched silently as he shuffled through papers on his desk, muttering something inaudible before whisking up a few papers and striding over to the podium. "I'll take attendance first; make sure you're all here." The expression he gave at this moment was hard to discern if he really cared if someone was playing hooky or not, a mix of detached interest and fierce disapproval.

Without further ado, he began calling out names, gaze scrutinizing each person who raised their hand and said here, as though telling them silently with their gaze that they'd better not be a problem to him in the future. Missy had the feeling they all got that quite clearly. That was, until he got to the boy who'd been agitating her earlier; "Aaron Balstrom?"

"Sup," Aaron made a peace sign and gave a wide grin as he leaned back in his desk.

Penguin gave a dark scowl at the boy before marking him down with a jot of his pen and chose to ignore him from then on. This action might have worked if Aaron wasn't so intent on ruffling his feathers.

"So, did you choose to become a teacher because Batman would never think a guy of your intellect could be capable of the job?"

Penguin cringed and glanced back at Aaron, lip curling in a silent snarl, voice a tad lower, "Are you going to be a problem in my class _Balstrom_?"

"No sir, Penguin, I was just wonderin-"

Penguin seemed to snap, the flippered hand on the attendance sheet curling into a fist and slamming against the podium desktop, "I do not like your impudence Balstrom, and I already see that I'm not going to like _you_. Furthermore, you will address me the way you address any other teacher in this school. You will address me by Mr. Cobblepot, not that infernal nickname everyone finds so damn amusing to lay upon me."

There was smattering of giggles at the name of Cobblepot, but the look he sent across the class instantly silenced them all. His gaze pierced Aaron's smug grin, enough to make Aaron to at least try to look like he cared, "Do you understand me?"

"Yes sir," The boy responded, yet his voice was still layered with amusement. Penguin, that is, Mr. Cobblepot seemed to tense, but with a gesture of impatience, he turned away and resumed the attendance.

After the rest of the attendance seemed to be going more smoothly, Missy mused that perhaps Cobblepot would only have issues over Aaron – who wouldn't? Her relief was squandered however, when he called out her name.

"…Missy Whitaker?"

Quickly, she raised her hand slightly, "Here!" But as she glanced up, her skin prickled uneasily. Instead of continuing on, he slowly looked up from the sheet in his hands and gave her a long hard stare, scrutinizing her closely.

"Erm…?" She opened her mouth, intending to ask if he wanted something, then quickly decided against it. Instead she eyed him back a little uncertainly.

However, after a moment, he gave a slight smile at her, though it looked forced and painful, before rolling up the sheet and setting it near the computer.  
"Good then, now that attendance is over with, I'll bring on some important matters of my classroom, nothing different really, same policies as all your other teachers I'm sure, but just to jog your memory a bit…"

Missy wasn't listening, nerves too far stretched over the awkward feeling of uncertainty. Why did he look at her like that? Did she do something; say something to him earlier that she didn't remember? Was he silently telling her to shape herself up? Maybe she hadn't realized he'd done it to everyone else. Yes, that must be it; he'd done it to everyone. But it had been so… _creepy_.

So deep in her thoughts, she was startled when chairs were suddenly scraping around her, everyone heading for the door. Her friend Ezzie tugged on her sleeve urgently as she passed by, "Come on Missy, he let us out a bit earlier than the bell. I think he wants to get rid of us… hurry up!"

Hurriedly, Missy followed her friend's bidding, having no intention to be all alone in the room with the grumpy former villain. Her friend was decent enough to wait for her, though impatiently. But as she stuffed her books back into her bag, she felt the unnerving feeling that she was being watched. With her friend eyeing one of the bird posters near the door, Missy glanced to Penguin. He was sitting at his desk by now, but was watching her again. However, upon seeing she caught his gaze, he blinked rapidly and frowned, turning around to shuffle papers and turn on the computer.

Definitely spooked by now, Missy turned swiftly and snagged her friend's arm, dragging her out of the room before she had to be with the man any longer. "Come on Ezzie; let's get to our next class so we'll get good seats." Her friend's annoyed response was cut off as the classroom door swung shut.

But as a minute passed by within the deserted classroom, Oswald turned back around, eyes dark with speculation, "Missy Whitaker… we meet at last."


	2. Chapter 2

**Reformed Regrets**

(Disclaimer: No I do not own the Batman universe nor that stylish Oswald Cobblepot. :D))

Chapter 2

**One week ago--**

"I trust you know why you're here, Mr. Cobblepot?"

Oswald Cobblepot gazed upon the man in front of him with contempt but said nothing, choosing to gaze darkly at the wall behind the man.

The man frowned slightly and leaned forward against the polished oak desk in front of him, "If you think ignoring us is going to make us go away, you are highly mistaken."

"No? Well, it's a more preferred action than looking like I care." Oswald growled in annoyance, finally glancing to the hard grey stare of the older man. His eyes might have passed for blue if it weren't for his dark brow and crisp-cut beard. His hair was equally cut sharp and to the point. In fact, everything about the man was sharp, the tailored cuffs on his sleeves, the finely stitched shoulders, even his quiet but brisk tone.

With an almost regretful sigh, the man stood and strode past Oswald, stepping over to take in the view of the window behind Oswald, "It's a pity. You _should_ care, we shouldn't have to make it so you _have_ to."

Oswald didn't turn to look at him, but his eyes narrowed, "What do you mean?"

Ignoring Oswald's question, he asked his own, "Do you know Jonathon Crane, Mr. Cobblepot?" The man rounded his way back in front of Oswald, staring him down as though his answer could be very important.

"What's it to you if I do?" Oswald sneered.

Unfazed by the fat man's rude cooperation, the man picked up a small frame on his desk, picture hidden from Oswald's sight, "It would mean I won't have to explain what he creates to keep his enemies in check."

There was a pause as Oswald considered what the man was hinting at, then, "…You mean his fear toxins?" Cobblepot kept his voice carefully blank.

Glancing over the picture in his hands, the man's lips twitched upwards in a smile, "Glad to see you're catching on. Yes. Crane's famed fear toxin is precisely the issue."

The two men stared at each other a moment, the both of them sizing each other up, before, "What about it?"

"Well my dear Penguin," At the mention of his famed nickname, Oswald seemed to bristle under the man's gaze, "Crane has used this toxin over humans plenty of times, knows the precise dosage before it gets too overwhelming… but we wonder, what kind of effect would this toxin have on something other than human?"

Oswald fell silent, narrowing his eyes, having a sudden nagging feeling at the pit of his stomach but said nothing, waiting for the man to continue.

Calmly, setting the frame back down upon his desk, the man leaned across his desk yet again, eyes never wavering from Oswald's. A smile grew slowly across his lips.

"Who knows the effect it could have on something as small as a _bird_?"

--

**  
Present time**

A sharp click of a door closing resonated down the empty halls of the school. The first day of school had ended only fifteen minutes ago, and already kids had quickly stampeded out of the gloom of the building to capture the dying summer days while they still could. But while others were celebrating the first day of school as having no to minimal homework; a portly bird-like figure of a man trudged his way down the empty halls, muttering darkly under his breath, still having difficulty with latching his briefcase securely shut. So intent was he with this task, he didn't notice another teacher make his way out of a classroom until he greeted him.

"Hello there, Oswald! Get through the day alri-"

"Waugh!" Instinctively, Oswald flung out his arm holding the umbrella towards the voice. In doing so, the briefcase he'd been fiddling with dropped to the ground and bashed open, sending a few papers flying.

The teacher, recognized now as the history teacher Mr. Bates, had stepped back himself, the color of his cheeks matching the peppered white of his beard. "I'm terribly sorry, didn't realize you hadn't seen me…" His gaze flickered uncertainly to the umbrella in Oswald's hand.

Flustered, Oswald quickly lowered his arm, giving a hesitant grin with that same sort of force to it. "No no, it's not your fault. I'm eh... just leaving now…"

Mr. Bates cleared his throat, but still eyed the umbrella Oswald gripped tightly in his hand, "That isn't, um…?" He gestured to the tip of it, gaze flicking up to Oswald with slight suspicion.

Oswald laughed, a nervous edge to his voice, "What, this?" He raised the umbrella, and to his hidden amusement, Bates flinched, "It's not loaded if that's what you're asking. Why, if that were so, I don't think I'd be allowed in the school, don't you?"

Mr. Bates nodded stiffly, glancing down the hall a moment, "Well. That's… good to know. I mean, not that I thought you would, but… I mean..."

Oswald waved his hand with a gesture of impatience, scowling, "Yes yes, I'm sure. And I'm sure you wish to talk, but I really have things I must do-"

"Of course," The older teacher agreed eagerly, "Here, let me help you with that." Stooping down, he began to collect the papers that had flown out of Oswald's briefcase.

Oswald stiffened, "No, that's fine! It's just a few papers is all, nothing that imp-"

"What's this?"

Oswald cursed violently in his mind, catching sight of the document the old history teacher had in his hands. He swiped it and stuffed it back in his briefcase along with the other papers, "Nothing; something to help me with the teaching business." Straightening upward with the briefcase that only now decided to shut tight, he made contact with the teacher's eyes.

Despite Oswald's sharp gaze, the man was not to be deterred, "Where'd you get such a fine picture of one of the students, Oswald? It looks rather recent but I don't believe the school has released student pictures yet."

Scowling, Oswald began to wish he _did_ have some weapon stashed inside his umbrella, "Ah… well, it's just to get me to learn the student faces more quickly. Have a hard time with that you see. Err… Dr. Randall helped me out with finding some decent pictures to help me along."

By the mention of the school principal in on it, Mr. Bates became visibly relieved. "Ah. Well, in that case, good for you! I hope you'll be able to get through the year without too much trouble with names and faces hmm? Well, I should go, have to pick up my daughter at her elementary school. See you tomorrow, Oswald."

Oswald nodded half-heartedly, hoping that Mr. Bates wouldn't become so nosy he'd ask Dr. Randall about it personally and find out Cobblepot's lie. Plastering on a smile, he waited until Bates disappeared from the hallway before he quit the act.

Growling angrily, his hands curled into fists for the second time that day as he tried to restrain his agitation. He kept his anger inside, however, due to the fact that a janitor was cleaning the floors further up the hall.

Cobblepot adjusted the monocle over his right eye, and suddenly, he seemed much more resigned; a slump in his shoulders, a drag to his footsteps. Taking off his hat, he slid his hand through his hair in attempt to try to relax his nerves, ruffling up his ginger hair in the process.

He'd made it to the school doors by now, and upon exiting the building, he was met with sound of the coming fall. The wind blew past him, though the feeling was pleasant after being kept in all day. However, it seemed Cobblepot did not take heart to this feeling, nor did he hardly even glance to his surroundings. It appeared that his mind was on other things, something much more mind consuming than the autumn days. If a fellow were to look out at the new teacher, they might have guessed he'd had a very trying day. This was, perhaps, not far from the truth.

...Reviews are always lovely. :) ...


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